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Death of Barnabus Drake
Barnabus drifts back into consciousness. He can vaguely feel pressure around his head and neck as the very large and very angry half-orc holds him up by his scalp with one hand. The taste of rust is strong in his mouth. He tries to breathe, but only ends up coughing up more of his life force as he slowly begins to drown in his own blood. One of the heavily armored warriors, whom he had dismissed as just an ale boy playing at being a warrior, approaches him slowly--a large painting of Barnabus in his hands. There is a malicious glint in his eyes. “Hello again, Bob Manchild.” He seethes at this. He knows that the man is doing this on purpose to provoke him, but he cannot help but be angered at the mangling of the Mandrake name. The warrior smirks at this. “As you can clearly see, you and your Guttersnipes have been utterly defeated. Now, this would have been a great lesson in humility for you, were it not for the fact that you will be dead in a few short moments.” Cage dips his fingers in a pool of blood that has collected below Barnabus. “Don’t worry. Even though we are going to burn everything you have built to the ground, you will not be soon forgotten. We will make sure to let all of White Crown know that you and your kind will no longer be tolerated.” He starts to write on the painting using Mandrake’s blood. Barnabus attempts to shout an insult in defiance, but he only manages to cough up more blood from his severed tongue. The sound catches the attention of the striking, dark-haired woman in heavy armor. She looks up, her arms still wrapped protectively around the blonde woman, who sobs inconsolably. Lioness silently motions to Gypsy, who seems to snap back to reality from faraway thoughts. Gypsy takes May in her arms, holding her tightly against her chest to make sure that she will not see what is to come. Lioness picks up her great sword as she gets up. Blood from one of Mandrake’s most trusted lieutenants drips noisily to the floor from its edge. She radiates murderous intent as she deliberately begins to walk towards Barnabus, her boots making ominous thumping noises as she approaches. Barnabus feels terror spread through his heart as he realizes that his doom is approaching. He desperately begins to look around the room for a way out, but all he sees before him are his enemies standing triumphant over his vanquished allies. His eyes dart from face to face in search for a glimmer of mercy. The absurd-looking young boy who is a curious shade of blue and seems to have a beard composed of feathers, yet wielded enough magic to mortally wound the king of rats in a few short seconds. The handsome man (who was the only one not covered in human excrement) wears an expression of contempt as he holds the finger wearing his precious ring up for him to see. The quiet monk who had personally taken out two of his best fighters with blinding speed and fury. His eyes drop to the ground as he realizes that there would be no quarter given today. He had grossly underestimated them, and now he would pay for that mistake. He knew that he had to die someday, but not like this. Not like this. He starts to weep openly, his tears mixing with the blood flowing from his mouth. He tries to shake his head and beg for his life, but the half-orc’s grip on his skull is too tight, and his throat is blocked by a torrent of blood. As Lioness stops in front of Mandrake, she hears Gypsy begin to sing a comforting lullaby for May. She stares into the eyes of her prey as she raises her great sword with both hands. The man in front of her begins to raise the stump where his good arm used to be, in a pitiful attempt to protect himself from her wrath. With a swift and merciless motion, she rams her sword into Mandrake’s throat with all of her might, causing the entire blade to enter his body. He lets out a choking gasp and begins to twitch violently as Lioness turns around and walks back towards May. The half-orc lets go and Barnabus Mandrake, leader of the Guttersnipes, collapses to the floor. As the great pain in his body is replaced by a soothing numbness, Barnabus feels the beginning of the darkness consuming everything that he was, and everything that he will be. The last thing he sees is his painting as Cage steps back to admire his handiwork. Written on the painting in large, crimson letters are the words “Guttersnipes are dead.”